Mark of the Traitor
by Nagarox1234
Summary: A story of how Tsume ended up alone, angry and with a scar on his chest. I do not own Wolf's Rain.


Tsume lounged comfortably on the ledge under the rocks overshadowing their territory. He prefered this spot rather than the open meadows and woods that so many other young wolves his age played and relaxed in.

He didn't have many friends but, due to his solitary nature, that didn't really bother him that much. He had his family and their approval, he was well fed and his pack was safe in this more secluded part of the area. That was enough for him.

"Tsume! Tsume! TSUME!" Tsume nearly leaped out of his pelt at his mother's frantic calling.

"What mother?" He called as he leaned over the edge of his private ledge to spot his mother. She was a grey wolf with a few strands of white around her muzzle. She frowned as she noticed him leaning over the edge dangerously.

"Come down from there! You could get hurt!" She snapped.

"Mother, I told you. I'm fine up here." He rolled his eyes at her over protective nature, she had always treated him like a pup. His mother sighed and shook her head, he was such a juvenille.

"Well come down! It's hunting time!"

"I'll be down in a minute, I-" Tsume's words faded mid-sentence as a sudden sound hit his ears like a blow. A harsh buzzing sound that almost physically hurt him to listen to. His heart froze with fear as he realized what the sound meant.

"NOBEL SHIPS!" He heard a howling screech of one of the pack members, as all the pack gathered in the meadow, what they did when there was an emergency. He and his mother barely had time to react before the fleet was upon them, massive ships equipped with sharp-shooting laser guns desgined to kill on the first shot. He had heard of the nobles in stories as a pup but he had assumed that they would never find their home.

Tsume leapt dangerously from his stony ledge and ran just as the firing began. He could see the red bolts of light streak down from the ships and hit the ground with tremendous force. His pack skidded easily around the beams, but then the troops began to arrive, armed with deadly weapons. Wolves, especially in Tsume's pack, were not going to give up their homes and lives willingly. They fought, tooth and nail, biting, ripping, scratching, doing anything they could. But the nobles were far more prepared.

For every soldier the wolves killed, several more took their place with laser axes and guns. The wolves didn't stand a chance against such weapons. Every minute of the battle pased with agonizing slowness for Tsume as he could do nothing but watch as his pack was slaughtered where they stood. His heartbeat was beating three times as fast and his mind was racing, panic setting in quickly.

He couldn't take it anymore, he began to run away. As he ran, the ships began to fire once more, taking out wolves by the dozens as they were occupied by the soliders. Bodies flew by him, dropping back to the ground with an ugly 'whump'. The ground seemed to fly from under his feet as one blast came particularly close. His paws slipped from under him and he crashed into the ground, his head slamming against a rock. The last image he saw before blackness consumed him was his mother and several other wolves being blown off their feet.

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He awoke several hours later, his head slow and aching. He stood shakily to his feet, allowing his eyes to sweep the landscape, barely able to comprehend the horror of the sight that greeted him.

Bodies lay twisted and strewn about, some still smoking from blasts. Most of the plants and rocks were annihilated by fires, laying in pieces. Even the sky seemed blackened by soot and smoke. Tsume was in shock, all he could do was stumble around, stupidly observing the scene. He noticed that his rock ledge was still standing, a minor drop of relief in a bucket of pain and confusion. He looked closer and noticed forms moving in the shadows. They were wolves.

He ran as fast as his weakened form could bear, jumping onto the ledge where his was overjoyed to see several members of his pack, including his mother, and the Alpha male. Everyone was regarding him coldly and angrily except his mother. She looked at him with fear in her eyes. No one said a word.

Tsume was confused at first, until the memory of the fight came flooding back. He had abandoned his pack, he had run away. He was a coward, a whelp, a disgrace to wolf kind. The Alpha circled around him, teeth bared, growling threateningly. Without a word, the Alpha lunged forward suddenly and sank his teeth deep into Tsume's chest. Tsume howled in pain as the Alpha lifted him off his feet and threw him of the ledge. Tsume fell and crashed painfully into the rocks below, being knocked unconscious for the second time that day.

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Once again, Tsume did awaken multiple hours later, with a burning pain in his chest. He looked down and saw a horrible wound in the shape of an X right in the center of his chest. It was a perfect mark for a traitor, he decided. He glanced towards the ledge, as if hoping his pack would wait for him. Of course, they were nowhere to be found. No one waited for traitors.

Tsume stood on rickety legs, blood from his wound dripping and congealing in his grey fur. He looked towards the horizon and began to walk. He didn't know where he was going or what he would do when he got there but he knew he couldn't remain here.

He had to start over, begin a new life. So the wolf with the X in his chest began to walk forward, unsure of everything in his life execpt for the fact he must move onwards.

After all, no one waits around for traitors.


End file.
